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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23643046">Devin and Max</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/paintingsinthedark/pseuds/paintingsinthedark'>paintingsinthedark</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>No Fandom, Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bittersweet Ending, But it's okay, Coming Out, Fluff, M/M, Repressed Feelings, Sexuality Crisis, two gays in stupid</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 21:08:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,559</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23643046</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/paintingsinthedark/pseuds/paintingsinthedark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The love story of Devin and Max, from high school sexuality crises to children and death.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Original Male Character/Original Male Character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Devin and Max</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It happened accidentally. A conversation with his best nb friend.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Do you think I’m gay?</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No, but you might be bi.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It got him thinking. He didn’t like it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That night, in an effort to test the theory, he tried something new. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he found himself turned on by the gay porn on his screen, he mildly freaked (to put it lightly). He smoked almost enough pot to make him forget, but he couldn’t. Not quite.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Max asked him out, he told Max that he wasn’t into him like that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Max filled his dreams. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was okay to find guys attractive. To have them turn him on. It wasn’t okay to dream about cuddling them. Kissing them. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Dating</span>
  </em>
  <span> them. It wasn’t okay to dream about Max’s lips, his hips, his hands. It wasn’t okay to think about walking in the hallway holding hands. It wasn’t okay to daydream of kissing Max in science, of cuddling with him in math, of what their children would look like in English. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Devin wasn’t okay. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And then he did something stupid but effective. He forced it down, forced himself to forget, and didn’t think about it for the next two years.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Max had done something stupid. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Of course </span>
  </em>
  <span>Devin was straight. It was too much to hope that anyone would be into him, much less the person he liked. So he did his best to get over Devin. It had taken him six months to fall for Devin. Two years later, he still wasn’t over him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Devin was 16, he broke up with his girlfriend and signed up for Grindr. He couldn’t help but wish her chest was a little flatter, her hips a little thinner, her voice a little lower. He never ended up using it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This was a major moment. It was terrifying. It was exhilarating. It was wonderful. He had stopped forcing himself to be straight. He finally let himself just be. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Devin was 17, he noticed something. A flutter. An urge. A bit of attraction that would do someone who wasn’t out no good. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He noticed it in English. The other boy’s laugh was beautiful. Inwardly, he smiled. Devin wished he could make him laugh like that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He noticed it in Chemistry. When his ...crush… was joking around with Tony, he was adorable, and Devin had to suppress the urge to go over there and kiss him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He noticed it passing him in the hallways, how beautiful his hands were, with their long, slim fingers. He didn’t dare meet his eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He noticed it hanging out with Q at the park, a joint swinging from his fingers. The haze of being high made his feelings so much more acute. When he complained of Max’s beauty to Q, who refused to get high at home, they shook their head. “You could have told me earlier, you know. I just wish you didn’t have to be ridiculously high in order to tell me things.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That night, when the lights were off, when Devin was curled into a ball on the other side of Q’s bed, Q lay looking up at the ceiling. “You know I support you no matter what, right?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a long silence before a very quiet, “yeah, i know. It’s just hard when you’re ashamed of it” made its way across to them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Max accidentally let slip he had been in love with someone for two years, Q kept it quiet, but they didn’t forget.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Devin complained to Q about his crush, Q didn’t forget.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Devin didn’t tell Q that he was quickly falling in more than like with Max. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And when Q found out the date of queer prom, they told Devin about it too. They told him that it was better to try and be rejected than to be in limbo forever.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Devin tried.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Hey, Max, there’s this thing called queer prom….</em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He waited. And waited. Two days later:</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Are you asking me out?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Yes.</em>
  </b>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Okay.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he told Q, they were the only one who knew. He told them not to tell anyone. Q agreed. (Except for Samantha, because Samantha was Q's best friend</span>
  <span>). </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At lunch, Devin would come over to Q and Samantha’s table. When Max arrived a minute later, Q would glance at Samantha, and Samantha would grin back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And maybe it was because they sat a little closer than two “friends” would. And maybe it was because Devin and Max’s gay sex jokes were a little more fraught with meaning. But when Devin made a joke about sucking dick, Q turned to waggle their eyebrows at Samantha, and Samantha giggled back. Joe sighed, and just pulled his arm tighter around Samantha. He had given up trying to understand their inside jokes long ago.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Devin and Max went on a few dates before prom, but mostly they just hung out. Max was wonderful to talk to. They never ran out of conversational topics.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Devin once spent 5 hours on the phone with him, only to look up and realize it was 6am and he had to get up in an hour for school.) They spent a lot of time outside, because the weather was nice that year, and both had several parks by their houses. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>By the time prom rolled around, they had decided that Max would pick up Devin at 5 and they would go to dinner. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Max knocked at 5 and Devin opened the door, Max forgot to breathe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He likes to think he was more eloquent than this, but he said “Shit. Fuck. Oh my god. Oh. Wow. I’m going to kiss you now. Can I kiss you?” Devin’s reply was a nod. He was just as wowed. (Actually, his first thought upon opening the door was ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Well, now I definitely know I’m gay’</span>
  </em>
  <span>, followed by</span>
  <em>
    <span> ‘fuck, guys in suits are </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>hot</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>’</span>
  </em>
  <span>).</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neither of them remember most of the night, but when Q told the story later, they had gotten high beforehand and were joined at the hip, constantly kissing or touching, holding hands. Q swears that at one point, when Max let go of Devin, Devin looked near tears before Max rejoined their hands.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Their first real fight came when they were applying for colleges the next year. Max had wanted to go away, and Devin wanted to stay close. Max thought a long distance relationship could work, and Devin was entirely against the idea, and they didn’t speak to each other for 3 days. In the end, they both got accepted to the University of North Dakota, and they compromised on that. It wasn’t perfect, but as Devin later told them at lunch, “The makeup sex was great though.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Q informed Devin that that was “TMI”— after they took Samantha’s pencil. “Friends don’t stab friends.”)</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>By the time they were done with their 3rd year of college, they had had their 5th anniversary, and Devin had almost completely stopped smoking. They were driving back to visit their families for a few weeks that summer. Max was driving, and Devin was asleep in the passenger seat. So he made the decision to detour. When Devin woke up a few hours later, Max told him about the detour they had made. In front of them was Lake Superior, and cliffs, and a few wildflowers. Devin plucked a purpley-blue one and reached up to tuck it behind Max’s ear. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Devin looked at the lake, a bit confused. He turned to ask Max why, exactly, they were here, but the second he saw his boyfriend he knew. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Devin’s chest was really tight. He couldn’t speak. He thought he might cry.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wanted to laugh, too.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And when Max asked him to marry him, he pulled him to the car, and dug through the luggage, and said, “I guess great minds think alike.” He grabbed a little box and dropped to a knee. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Max’s crying set Devin off. If you were driving by, you would have seen a ridiculous sight. Two grown men, clutching each other and smiling and crying and laughing and each one was holding a small box.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When they turned thirty, they started thinking about adoption. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When they turned thirty one, they brought home a little girl from China — “We’ll have something in common,” Devin had said. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Throughout the years, they attended shitty music concerts, and better music concerts, and graduations, and a wedding. And while they didn’t attend the actual birth, (“ew, vaginas!”) they were there immediately afterward to meet their grandchild. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Holy shit,” Devin said. He looked at Max. “We’re grandparents.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Language!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Devin and Max lived for a long time, but as all living things must do, they did die.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Devin died at 92 from dementia. He forgot a lot, but he never forgot Max.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Max lived a year longer. The doctors said it was a stroke, but his daughter maintains that he died of heartbreak.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They were both cremated. Their ashes were scattered on the cliff they got engaged on. Their daughter planted flowers there. They were the same bluey-purple flowers that Devin had tucked behind Max’s ear all those years ago. Those flowers had been in the family garden, and they had always been Max and Devin’s favorite. They represented the beginning of their marriage, and they would remain there for many, many years after their deaths.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is, I believe, the very first thing I ever wrote. It's a fanfiction of two of my friends, and the start of it is fully accurate to reality. Of course, names were changed. I'm aware that it's a little choppy, with meh writing and weird side characters not entirely relevant to the plot, but this was written for the irl Samantha, so her character is included. Joe is her boyfriend.</p><p>Comments and kudos are always appreciated :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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